


Firewood

by lulat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 7: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Camping, Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Missing Scene, OTP Feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-01-02
Packaged: 2018-05-11 04:16:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5613649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lulat/pseuds/lulat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione and Ron find themselves alone in the woods when collecting firewood. Ron thinks he has something in his eye. </p><p>Set during Deathly Hallows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Firewood

“Ugh! I think I have something in my eye - can you check?”

I look up from the leaf strewn ground and see Ron blinking awkwardly in my direction. There’s mud on his jacket and his jeans are hanging off of him. He’s too skinny. We all are. I'm trying not to feel guilty about that – I know it’s not my fault we’re running low on food.

“Sure.” I say, dropping the twigs I'm holding and walking over so that I'm standing directly in front of him. 

I look into his eyes and for a moment I forget where I am. 

I forget that we’re in a freezing forest in the middle of nowhere. I forget that we’re living in a tent that requires advanced shielding spells for it to be considered “safe”. I forget about the lack of food and the boredom and the fact that we are fighting for our survival every day. 

I forget that Ron has been distant and horrible since we left Grimmauld Place. I forget about all the nasty things he’s said recently. I forget about that disappointed look he gives us when he thinks we’re not watching. 

Instead I think about the Ronald Weasley who stood up for me against the bullies when we were younger. The boy that took me to his home every holiday and made me feel welcome. The boy that makes me laugh and makes me feel happy even when I think I can’t be. I think about the boy that comforts me when I cry even though he knows he can’t do anything to help. 

Almost without realising it I find myself gently brushing underneath his right eye with my thumb. His skin is soft and freckled and my fingers are dirty from collecting firewood so I accidentally leave a smudge of dirt on his cheekbone. He stares back at me with so much affection that I can’t look away. 

We stand like this for longer than we should. I’m searching out the phantom splinter or piece of dust but I also know that I’m fighting that primal urge to slide my thumb down his jawline and pull his face to mine. He would do the rest. The only reason he hasn’t tried to kiss me yet is because he knows I’m not ready yet. I respect him for that.

I don’t know that I will think back to this moment years from now. When he’s standing at the altar and lifting my bridal veil. I don’t know that I will think about this on one of the happiest days of my life; despite the fact that in this moment we are anything but happy. I will remember this moment and think about how easy “for better or worse” will be for us – we’ve already been through “worse”. 

We fell in love during the worst. 

I pull myself back to the present. The two of us standing in the middle of a forest; searching for something that isn’t there. Ron’s face looks fearless for the first time in weeks. 

I drop my hand from his cheek and step back. 

“It’s fine.”


End file.
